


Each Time You Fall In Love

by Im_Vexed



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Anxiety Attacks, Bev isn't in this one because the school is all boys but she's in our hearts, Boarding School, Dead Georgie I'm so sorry, Enemies to Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Grammarly did everything it could and idk if it's enough, Imma try to make it slow burn but no promises, M/M, Modern Era, Not Beta Read, Reddie, Stenbrough, This is probably gonna have some angst in it, anxiety awareness, selective mutism, sideline reddie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28422930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_Vexed/pseuds/Im_Vexed
Summary: No one wants to have a bad roommate.Especially not one they're attracted to.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	1. You've been locked in here forever

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This first chapter is quite brief, but I promise the rest will be longer! I've just wanted to get number one up as soon as I could, enjoy!

Sometimes, things happen that we can’t control. Things like rain falling on our way home, or someone moving away. Or the death of family members. It’s simply out of our control. No one wants these things to happen, that is their entire purpose. So, when Bill Denbrough is shipped off to private school, away from his familiar bedroom and his favorite spot against his window, he thinks that this must be one of those moments. 

Bill was of course well versed in times like these. He had suffered many a loss throughout his life and had spent more time mourning than any sixteen-year-old boy should have to. Alas, some people have the burden set on their shoulders to bear for the rest of us. And no one ever wanted the boy to turn out like this, silenced almost completely by the weight of his own inner ocean that has consumed him all the way. Leaving just the very top of his head above it all, his arms down by his sides because at this point, there was no point in reaching out for help.

It was raining on the morning of November sixteenth. The morning Bill’s mother moved his trunk into the car and told him that it was time to go.  
“It’s a long drive, you may want a book.” she said softly, but Bill ignored her comment and got into the backseat. It had been almost a month since he had said a word to her, and the pattern seemed to be continuing there. Sharon Denbrough sighed and waved goodbye to her husband up in their bedroom window. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking if she had gotten a word out of their son. Sharon shook her head solemnly, and they both shrugged and went on their way.

Most of the ride was spent listening to music through his headphones. Ordinarily, he would’ve pulled out a book as his mother suggested, but the rain was much too distracting not to watch out of the window. The music was playing just loud enough so that his mother could hear the slight buzzing of it from the front seat, Bill wanting to see if she would tell him to turn it down or not. She didn’t. Sending Bill off to a boarding school had been something they had been considering for a while now, and making the decision had been a rough one. Sharon and Zack knew that their son was severely anxious, he probably hadn’t said one hundred words to them within his sixteen years in their presence. And the thought of being the ‘special needs’ kid at the extremely pretentious school they were currently driving towards just made Bill even more upset. He had been doing just fine being homeschooled by his mother, she was a good teacher. So when his parents announced that he would be going away, Bill had been rather upset.

It took them eight and a half hours to drive from their home to Schaeffer Academy. It was a big brick building. Old, covered in vines and surrounded by gardens. The rain hadn’t stopped, so as they pulled into the vast driveway on the private property, there were boys running through the grounds covering their heads with jackets and books, sometimes two kids per coat. A few of them stopped to look at the car, gawking at who the new kid could possibly be. Bill had to slump further down into his seat, taking off his headphones and turning off the music with a sigh. By the time they made it to the vast and intimidating front doors, Bill had zipped his phone into his pocket and was prepared to help his mom with the luggage that contained his things. But before they could even begin, someone who looked very important came and met Sharon right outside of his car door. 

Bill heard them talking, his mom told the man that Bill would be staying in room 217, and he replied, telling her that his things would be there when he arrived. He thought he heard some kind of comment about how the boy currently living in 217 was a wonderful student and would be a good roommate for Bill, especially since he was new. But being new was a code for being mute, and he knew it. They had given him the overly mature kid who would likely try to guess what he wanted to say before he had a chance to articulate it. But hopefully, Bill would be able to convince his mom that this preppy palace wasn’t the place for him before the guy got much too annoying.  
“Come on, honey” Bill's mother tapped on the window, and he opened the door and stepped out. Sharon was still taller than her son, his father was slightly petite, so Bill wasn’t tall by any means, his head protected from the rain by the overhang of the doors that made the place look almost like a hotel.  
“Right this way, headmaster Bingly will be just inside to take you around.” the man said kindly, and Bill's mother thanked him and started towards the doors, her son following begrudgingly in tow.

The inside of the building looked like a school. Something like what Bill had attended for the first few years of his schooling life before it was recommended that he went into homeschooling.  
“You’ll learn your way around rather quickly, I’m sure. Ah, here’s Mr. Bingly now.” the man gestured towards someone walking their way, whom Bill could only assume was the headmaster of the school.  
“You must be the Denbroughs. It’s very nice to meet you.” he said with a jolly tone, offering his hand to Sharon who took it happily.  
“It’s nice to meet you too, I’m Sharon and this is Bill.” she gestured towards the boy beside her. Headmaster Bingly offered Bill his hand as well, to which Bill didn’t move.  
“Sometimes he doesn’t shake hands,” Sharon explained, and the man nodded.  
“Yes, that’s right. Well, nonetheless, it’s nice to meet you, son. I’m sure your time here at Schaeffer will treat you nicely.” Bill nodded slightly, looking down at the floor as he listened. The party of three waited for a few seconds longer to see if Bill would look up and say anything, but eventually, they moved on as it became evident that he wouldn’t. 

The tour around the school was extensive, they were shown every floor and every classroom, while headmaster Bingly went on about the history of the school and the building and such. He talked about how all the programs got started, and how long all the teachers had been with them at the academy. Also speaking at length about the distance they would go to make sure that Bill felt comfortable and happy. Once they got to the English wing, Bill perked up just a little bit.  
“May we interrupt?” Bingly knocked on the door of an office that said ‘Greyson, Andrew. English professor.’ A voice came from inside that welcomed them in. The man sitting at the desk seemed to be grading papers of some kind and stood up to go and shake hands all around. When he got to Bill, the boy actually reached out and completed the action, not ignoring it as he had done with the other teachers.  
“You must be Bill. I’ve heard so much about you,” he said once they were done with the interaction, Sharon still looked mildly surprised that Bill had actually shaken his hand. Bill only nodded with a tight smile on his lips.  
“I understand that you’ll be joining our AP English course, I hope you're ready for it.” another nod came, but no words. The hope Sharon held that Bill would maybe perhaps speak up fizzled out, and she spoke herself.  
“He’s very excited to have a more rigorous course than what he was doing at home, I’m sure.” she smiled good-humoredly and set her hand on Bill's shoulder with a small chuckle. He had always been something of an English whizz, and his parents had actually snuck one of his drafts off of his computer for the application to Shaeffer.  
“Well, from what I’ve seen, you’ll do just fine.” the teacher, who Bill assumed he would be addressing as Mr. Greyson, commented.  
The conversation lasted a bit longer, not much, before the three of them were off into the hallways again. 

It took around two hours to get through the rest of the school, not including the dorm wings. Bill didn’t think he would ever manage to find his way around, but the headmaster had explained that he had given Bill the same schedule as another student, who would show him around and help him to not get overwhelmed at first. It would be someone other than his roommate since Sharon thought that it was the best idea for him to meet more than just one new person by default. He supposed that was probably just a sneaky way to get him to be more social, but Bill wouldn’t say anything about it. Which was a cruel joke, he never said anything about anything, but he would make a fuss about the idea of his mother thinking that she might be able to trick him out of his anxiety. But he knew that wasn’t how it worked. This would be overwhelming and overstimulating and he would be gone within the week.  
“Well, I think that’s about all that’s on the tour. All that’s left is your own dorm. We’ve placed Bill with a boy we know to be extremely mature and very helpful, I’m sure he’ll find it a wonderful living situation.” Headmaster Bingly explained as they walked through the countless halls, weaving and turning until Bill was sure that he would never find his way out on his own.  
“Here we are, your things should be inside.” They stopped in front of room 217, and knocked lightly.


	2. It's Clearly Not Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Welcome to chapter two of this! Again, not beta read, so if there are any odd spots that's why! Enjoy! Also, the spacing was a bit wonky with this one, so sorry about that!

Stanley Uris had never had a roommate. His parents were some of the biggest investors and members of the board at Schaeffer, so per his own request, he had been given his own room since he arrived. The school went from first grade all the way to twelfth, and Stanley was in for the entire ride. Nothing had been better than having his own room for so many years. Stan was a rather private person, he was neat and clean and had his own very specific way of doing things. And he was pretty attached to that notion. The notion of having his own space. It was nice, because he never had to worry about where his roommate was, if it was okay to bring his friends -friend- over. He didn’t have any problems with anyone being much too loud, or staying up too late, or having obnoxious friends. It was his own little paradise  
Stan’s parents had only notified him that he would be getting a roommate a week before it was to happen.  
“Stanley, don’t make a fuss. From what we’ve heard he’s a very nice boy, and you don’t spend much time in your room anyways.” his mother had said, to which Stan scoffed  
“It doesn’t matter, mom. You promised that I could have my own room, what if he’s loud? Or messy? Or-”  
“You’ll be just fine.” And that had been the end of the conversation.  
Richie had been just as upset. He and Stan had been friends ever since the first day of second grade, and the rest was history. A rare pair they were, Richie was loud and made too many jokes, couldn’t keep his mouth shut half of the time. No one ever really understood how he and Stan had become so close. Nonetheless, the two boys were practically attached at the hip.  
“What? That’s not fair, you’ve been living here alone for years.” Richie was lying on the unoccupied bed that would soon be taken up by whomever this new boy was.  
“I know. But for some reason they can’t put him anywhere else.” Stan shrugged, sitting at the window seat. It was getting colder and colder at Schaeffer Academy by the day, and soon enough there would be snow covering the grounds.  
“ We don’t have to be friends with him, right?” Stan scoffed at the question.  
“We don’t have to be friends with anyone. But it would be nice if you didn’t start a war against the person that could make my life hell.” he tossed his book aside and sighed. He knew that this could potentially be a mess, if he got someone that was a complete asshole, or someone that just didn’t suit him, both of their lives would be absolute hell.  
“I mean, there’s always the possibility that he could be good.” Richie said, his voice not sounding convinced at all of what he was saying.  
“ I doubt it.” Stan pouted, placing his book carefully back on the bookshelf and letting himself fall dramatically back onto his bed.  
That conversation had been almost a week ago now, and with their day off he was spending it inside. Richie had invited him to hang out in his own room, but Stan wasn’t fond of the boy that he lived with, so he had opted to stay in his own room and read until the new boy arrived.  
After a few hours of peaceful reading to the sound of the rain against the big window and the sound of his favorite record on the record player in the corner of his room turned down rather low, there came a knock to the door.  
Oh dear god, here it goes. Stan thought, pulling on a cardigan over his outfit, placing his book on his bedside table, and moved to turn off the music. The boys things had been delivered a few hours ago, and placed at the foot of the not-so-unoccupied bed.  
“Coming.” he called out in a voice that could have sounded more friendly. Nothing about this was exciting, in fact, it was rather annoying. Stan wasn’t even interested to see who his new roommate was in the flesh. He could hear voices softly speaking outside the door, and took a deep breath before opening it.  
Stan was met with the sight of the headmaster, and a woman and a boy. The woman was pretty, she stood politely with porcelain skin and red hair that fell just past her shoulders. Her eyes were blue, and a smile immediately stretched her lips on sight of Stan. He was taller than her, but that was expected from a boy of his age.  
“Hello, you must be Stanley.” she said lightly, a kind tone filling her voice  
“Yes.” he answered shortly, and shook her hand. The headmaster -who was a family friend of Stanley’s- gave him a polite nod, which was returned. And that was when Stan caught sight of the boy.  
He was short, shorter than Stan himself at least. His skin was pale, slightly paler than his mothers, even. His eyes were just as strikingly blue, and unwilling to make any kind of eye contact at the moment. His hair was strawberry blonde with a bit more of a red tint in this lighting. And Stanley’s very first uninhibited thought was  
Oh. He’s beautiful.  
Stan’s second thought was that he was a bit odd. His mom was rather chatty, as middle aged women typically were. But Stan half expected the boy -whom his mother had introduced as Bill- to actually say something.  
“Oh look, this’ll be perfect, won’t it?” the mom said, turning to her son who gave little to no sign that he had even heard her.  
“Do a little unpacking and it’ll be just like home.” The boy didn’t seem to agree. His expression was nearly blank, if not for a few clear signs that he was just as unhappy about this as Stan himself was.  
“Isn’t it lovely, Bill?” She turned to her son, who just smiled tightly and looked away. Stan noted how he seemed uncomfortable even making eye contact with his own mother. It was a little off-putting, of course. Someone who seemed so fidgety and nervous to the extent of not even being able to look their own mom in the eye. Bill stood at the threshold the entire time his mother looked around, barely even taking a step into what was meant to be his new home for at least the next few months.  
“The only downside is that it gets a bit cold in here sometimes, but that’s nothing a few blankets can’t fix.” Stan said, directing his words towards the doorway to see if he could get any kind of reaction from Bill, even acknowledgement that he was there, but the only answer he got was from the woman, who nodded and said  
“That shouldn’t be a problem at all”  
After what felt like an eternity longer, Bill, his mother, and headmaster Bingly were all going to group outside the building to say their goodbyes. Stan was left alone once again, no doubt to soon be joined back by his new -odd, yet tragically beautiful- roommate. He promised himself that he would try to see past the first little interaction. Nerves were of course to be expected in times like these. Plus, Stan hadn’t been too thrilled about it, he couldn’t imagine how Bill was feeling. Forced out to this isolated countryside to live with a bunch of rich assholes and go to school. It wasn’t the ideal situation at all, especially when you had an attitude like he did. And it wasn’t like Stan was getting down on him, he himself had been rather grumpy about the whole thing. But the sheer disrespect he had shown his mom, Stan was baffled that she hadn’t gotten upset at him. It wasn’t his place to judge their family dynamic, all he could hope for was that Bill didn’t act like that the entire time they were to be roommates. 

It was about ten minutes later when Bill re entered the room. Stan had gone back to his bed to sit and wait for him to return. The only reason that he hadn’t chosen to take the bed by the window was because the cold air seeped through 24/7, and Stan was always cold. And he supposed that his days of sitting on the other bed to look out the window were over. There was a soft knock at the door, and he sighed deeply. That was the sound of his last grains of privacy running out. He hopped up off of his bed and made his way over towards the door. There was a moment of hesitation where Stan hoped that if he didn’t open the door, it would all go away. But after a few seconds, he figured that he should let the other boy in.  
“Hey,” Stan smiled tightly and stepped to the side.  
“Come on in, you can unpack or whatever.” he gestured to the room behind him, and waited for Bill to walk in and possibly say something. It took a moment for the other boy to take a step, and once he did Stan closed the door behind him. 

Stan watched intently as Bill looked around the room. It almost seemed as if he was trying to build up the courage to do anything but stand there and look. It did give Stan a better chance to inspect his figure once again. He was lithe, and pale, no way that he played any kind of sports. His hair was more blonde in this lighting, with just a hint of a red shimmer when he cocked his head the right way and the lamp light caught it. Bill's eyes were an icy blue tone, scanning everything with his gaze. A gaze that was both intense and timid at the same time, like he was both scrutinizing and mildly afraid of everything he laid eyes on.  
“Uh, that’s your side of the room, I guess,” Stan made another attempt to get a word out of Bill, now finding it a little odd that he still hadn’t said a single thing the whole time he had been there. Eventually, he did move to start pulling his things out and putting them away, in a manner that almost seemed methodical.  
“Do you want some help?” he asked after a while, and Bill just looked up and shook his head quickly, before going back to his work. That was odd, he hadn’t even thanked Stan for offering, just gone right back to what he was doing. A frown came to Stan’s face rather quickly, and he eventually decided to go back to sit on his bed and pick the book back up that he had abandoned a while ago. 

It took almost an hour for Bill to get his things unpacked. Within that hour, Stan had been reading his book and looking up to watch the motions the other boy went through to set everything up. Stan no longer thought that Bill was beautiful. Well, okay, maybe he did. But overshadowing that thought was the blatant disrespect that was present. So far he had been nothing but polite to the new kid, even if it was strained, the effort was still there. Bill, on the other hand, had done none of that. All he had done was ignore Stan the whole time. What a great start, huh? 

Once it seemed that Bill was fully unpacked, and immersed into something on his laptop. Stan had made one or two more attempts at making contact, but those attempts had turned up fruitless. They both sat in more or less silence for a few more hours, only the rain pattering on the window for some kind of noise. That and the sound of Bill typing nearly furiously at his keyboard. It seemed like he was doing something important, or at least interesting. And had he not been so rude, Stan might have shown some interest into whatever he was doing. But he did his best to keep his nose in his own book. It was a book that they were reading in his english class, and Stan expected that Bill would have to catch up on it at some point. He smiled a little to himself at the thought of the boy scrambling around to try and get to where the class was in the book. And it was a little evil, but it served Bills prissy ass right. Stan was doubtful that Bill would even make friends here. And wasn’t like Stan would go around and purposefully tell everyone he was an asshole. But if word got out somehow, and everyone started ignoring him, that wouldn’t be entirely Stan’s fault. Right? 

The dinner bell rang at some point, and Bill nearly jumped out of his skin. That was a little odd, but not really. He hadn’t known that a loud bell would ring, so it was to be expected, right?  
“ that’s dinner,” Stan didn’t elaborate. Of course, the teachers would surely instruct Bill as to the rest of what would happen during dinner, so he didn’t really need to say anything more. The other boy only looked up with a bit of a frightened look in his eyes. That was odd. Why would Bill be afraid to go to dinner?  
“Hurry up,” the tone of voice he used could’ve been nicer, sure. And when Bill just sat, frozen for a few seconds, Stan scoffed and turned on his heel, heading for the door and leaving Bill alone in the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's chapter three, folks! I'll try to get one of these in every Thursday for you, but until then, happy reading!


	3. Just Can't Say Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyooo! Hopefully this one is longer, and the spacing works out better! I hope you all enjoy this chapter, happy reading! -Vex

Watching the door open to room 217 had possibly been the most terrifying moment of Bill Denbrough’s life. 

Okay, wow, slow down a little bit. Bill had been through a lot, there were definitely a lot more awfully horrifying things he had witnessed and heard. Though, as the heavy oak door of the room swung on its hinges and a boy looked out from behind it, Bill felt like he could’ve thrown up. The swing of the door was achingly slow, almost too slow for it to be normal. It was like whoever stood behind it was trying to preserve his life as he knew it for as long as he possibly could. And honestly, Bill felt the same way. 

He had done the exact same thing earlier that week. Anything he could do to try and change his parents mind, anything he could do to delay his leaving. But all of his efforts had been in vain, nothing had worked. Not even trying to get himself into trouble by sneaking out during the night and getting caught on purpose. All his mother had done was patted him on the shoulder and sent him up to bed. It didn’t feel fair to Bill, any other time she would’ve yelled at him and grounded him for at least two weeks. And all of that only led back to all of Bills thoughts. 

‘They don’t want me here.’ 

‘I’m just bothering them’

‘They can’t stand to see me here anymore’

Bill’s mind had sent him in loops trying to figure out why his parents would ever want to send him away. It was near torture. Getting into the car, seeing his father up in the bedroom window. Bill could clearly remember the reluctant hug he had shared. The drive surely hadn’t been any better, but he thought that saying goodbye to his mother had to be the absolute worst part. 

“You’ll be fine, Bill. I know you will. Your roommate seems delightful, and everyone around here will do just fine taking care of you,” Sharon Denbrough had her hand on her son’s face. She herself was starting to have second guesses. Bill had always been touchy with these kinds of things. Sending him off to summer camp had been a huge mistake. What had she and her husband thought made this place any different? 

“Be good, alright? Have the school give us a call if you need anything.” The forlorn look on Bills face just made her want to stay even more. To take him home with her and never leave him there in the first place. Bill himself was feeling like there was a rock sitting in his stomach. The pure dread that filled him was incredibly overwhelming. 

Sharon waited a few moments longer to see if Bill would say anything. They stood at the front of the school, with the headmaster just off to the side. It was still raining outside, and Bill thought it fit the mood a little too well. When he said nothing, Sharon patted his cheek and pulled him into a hug. 

Bill leaned forward into his mothers embrace, and breathed in the scent of her perfume. It was lavender, she hadn’t changed it since he was born. The hug lasted for a minute or two, before Sharon moved back and kissed him on the forehead.  
“Have fun.” she whispered softly, and gave headmaster Bingly a wave to show him that she was leaving. 

Once the Denbrough car had pulled all the way out of the school grounds, the headmaster walked up next to Bill. He had been determined to watch his mother go until he could no longer see her. He held onto the thought that she would turn around and come back for him, but she never did. The car turned the final corner, and Bill was suddenly left alone.  
“Come on, son. Let’s get you unpacking, shall we?” Bill felt a hand on his shoulder at the headmaster's words, and he moved around slightly until it was gone. Bingly didn’t look offended at all, just nodded and led him back to room 217. 

It took them around ten minutes to walk from the front of the school back to the room. The headmaster left him with a fond adieu then, and Bill was left to knock on the door himself. He stood there for about three minutes with his closed fist hovering above the surface of the door, before he finally gave a bit of a timid knock. There was a hesitation on the other side of the door as well. The boy inside wasn’t even getting up to walk to open it, he was just sitting there, likely hoping that Bill would go away. And he almost did, honestly. Bill almost walked away from the door. But, unfortunately, it opened. 

“Hey.” Bill grimaced at how forced the greeting had sounded.  
“Come on in, you can unpack or whatever.” Bill looked at the room that was being presented to him, and he had to take a bit of a deep breath before stepping in. All his things had been set at the foot of his bed, and Bill took notice as he looked around. 

The room was big. Pretty big for a dorm room, but Bill wasn’t complaining. The beds were full sized, both pushed against a corner of the room at a diagonal from each other. Stanley’s side of the room was decorated, his closet was filled. His bed was on the same wall as the door was, whereas Bill’s was right next to a window. On the same wall as Bills bed, there was a window seat further down, which was in a bit of an outpush in the window. There was an empty closet where he would put all of his clothes, Bill assumed. There was an empty bookshelf close to his bed as well, which would prove to come in very handy. He had a side table with three drawers going down, and a lamp on top. Stanley said something, but Bill wasn’t really paying attention to it. He started unpacking slowly, starting by putting the few books he had brought with him on the shelves. 

“Do you want some help?” Bill turned to look at Stan for a moment. It was almost as if he was expecting to get a response back. Had he forgotten that Bill didn’t speak? He quickly shook his head and got back to his work. First books and journals, then his clothes went in the closet, along with three uniforms for the school day. Bill had never really had to wear a uniform before. This one entailed a dress shirt, a tie, and a blazer with the Schaeffer academy emblem on it, and black dress pants. Bill wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but at least he would blend in with the crowd. 

As far as he knew, on the weekends and after school hours was casual dress time. So he stayed in what he had on for the afternoon. Stanley had spend the hour and a half Bill had been working, pretending to read his book. Bill could practically hear him roll his eyes every time he looked over. 

Just great. Two hours in and the guy’s already a prick. Bill was seriously screwed, that was for sure. After he finished all of his packing, Bill pulled out his laptop and plugged it into the wall. It had died the night before, and he hadn’t had time to charge it before arriving. He only had to wait six minutes before it was powering on, and he could get onto his bed. 

Bill pulled up an old essay he had been working on for his English class at home. His mom had stopped classes about two weeks before he left home. She hadn’t seen the point of continuing on after he had been accepted into Schaeffer. Though reluctant to give up his perfect world, Bill hadn’t stopped with the assignments. He continued on with everything until he finished it, in complete denial that he was actually going to be taken away from the comfortable environment that he had created at the desk in his dining room. He hated more than anything that his parents had been able to pull him away from his house, that they had so easily picked him up and tossed him into this new place. And no matter how much Bill wanted to kick and scream and cry. No matter how his brain had panicked and hit the red button to set off emergency protocol, Bill had gone quietly. 

Just like he did with every damn thing. 

Every once in a while, Bill could feel Stanley’s eyes on him. The other boy would glance up over his book to practically glare at Bill where he sat. And all he could do was sit and squirm in his spot, moving around to get comfortable again before resuming his writing. Five pages, then ten, then fifteen. The essay had been on a concept that Bill had grasped rather well, and he would likely send it in an email to his mother. A silent plea for her to come and get him out of this place. This place where people would stop and stare at him as he walked the halls. 

Bill could feel the way that Stan looked at him. And once or twice, he even opened his mouth to try and say something. But every time he did, a wave of intense panic rose in his throat, blocking it all from coming out. One time he even felt like crying, like if Stan looked at him one more time his chest would explode and he would break down before he even got to spend an entire day in the hell hole. 

After a little while longer, there was a sudden noise. Bill almost fell off the side of his bed with how hard he jumped. No one had ever said anything about any kind of dinner bell, and Bill guessed that there would be one for breakfast and lunch as well. Stanley stood up with a bit of an odd look to Bill.  
“That’s Dinner,” Bill just blinked at him. Stan practically towered above him with his hands on his hips.  
“Hurry up” it sounded harsh, and Bill cringed away slightly from the way that Stan had practically spit the words at him. And when Bill didn’t make a move, Stan swept around, picked up a cardigan, and was gone. Once the door swung shut heavily behind him, Bill stood up. He had no clue where the dining hall was from here. The thought occurred to him that maybe he would just skip that meal and eat breakfast the next morning, but then his stomach grumbled. And Bill had never been one to ignore his stomach. 

Looking out of the door at the sea of boys that was all pouring in one direction. There was a loud humming that came from the group, all of them talking at once. It filtered through Bills ears and shook his brain until tears came to his eyes. It was too loud, much too loud. So he retreated back into his room for a moment. Taking deep breaths, five in succession, Bill let the brunt of the group pass until he could tell that only a few stragglers littered the hall outside. So, buckling down, Bill opened the door again, and was met with a slightly shorter boy with his fist up to knock. 

“Oh! Sorry, hi,” the smaller boy lowered his hand back to his side. He was holding a piece of paper in his hand, and standing up straight.  
“You’re Bill, right? I’m Eddie Kaspbrak,” a hand went out for Bill to shake, but he didn’t move a muscle.  
“Right, sorry, they told me that,” the boy, who seemed to be named Eddie, retracted his hand and chuckled a little bit.  
“I’m showing you around to your classes, and I heard that you were living with Stan Uris, and figured that you’d probably need help to dinner.” Eddie smiled a little. His intentions were good, of course. He seemed much sweeter to Bill than Stan did, that was for sure. Bill let go of the death grip he had on the doorknob behind him, and nodded slightly at Eddie.  
“Yeah? Fantastic, you can sit with me and my friend Ben. C’mon, it’s this way,” Eddie almost reached out to take Bill’s hand, but thought better of himself and just gestured with his hand, trusting the other boy to follow. And follow he did, closing the door behind him and walking closely behind Eddie until they arrived at the crowded entry to the dining hall.


	4. Not a chapter, hah

Hey everyone! My life recently kinda took a turn, so I've missed my updates, but I promise there's a chapter in the works!! I'll have it for you guys in no time, don't fret, I'm not gone! I've just needed a bit of time, Thanks for your patience! <3


	5. Another not Chapter, hah

Hello once again, lovelies!! I plan on updating this week (yayyy!) but I was also wondering if any of you have any ideas where this story could go! I have some ideas, but I really want for it to be longer than what I have planned out would make it. Leave comments if you have anything you'd like to add to the story, and I'll happily add that into the plot of the fic! Sorry again for missing two weeks, but I'll be back onto my shit from now on, I just had to sort some things out around me! Thanks for putting up with me, though, really!   
Until Thursday!! <3


	6. He's Got To Be Crazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo everyone!! I'm finally getting to one of these! This chapter is dedicated to Lily_Potter_Denbrough, who is the entire reason that I have inspiration for this, so say a big thank you!! Feel free to continue leaving ideas in the comments, but much love to everyone! Enjoy <3

“Yo! Staniella!”  
Stan sighed as he heard Richie call out from where he sat. Wasn’t suffering through an entire afternoon with his new roommate enough punishment? Apparently not, because across the dining hall Richie was standing up out of his chair and waving like crazy over at him. 

Chuckling to himself, Stan rolled his eyes and walked over, taking his spot next to Richie at the end of the table. They were long and wooden, but the boys managed to separate themselves into friends groups along them rather well. Stan himself usually sat with Richie and his roommate, Connor, who was an absolute pain in the ass. Richie and Connor got along well enough, there were rumors that things had happened behind closed doors. But they had never really been confirmed or denied by either party. 

“So? New kid? How’d it go?” Richie was already interested to hear what Stan had to say about Bill. Both he and Connor leaned over the table slightly, waiting to try and hear Stan over the buzz of the rest of the boys talking in the big, echo-y hall. 

“Well, for starters, he hates me,” Stan rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as he spoke, the other two boys scoffing. 

“Already? Seems a little judgy, doesn’t it?” Connor said, his voice already enough to give Stan a headache. 

“Is he at least hot?” Richie asked, making Stan snort across the table. 

“Not particularly, no. He just came in, unpacked, and didn’t say a word,” Richie and Connor both shook their heads. Stan crossed his arms over his chest. The worst part of it was that Bill was Stan's type. He checked all of his oddly specific boxes, even down to the strawberry blond hair that fell in front of his eyes every time he leaned forward to get closer to the screen of his laptop. 

Stan looked around the hall, trying to find anyone that was sitting alone. Because if their first encounter had been any indication, Bill would definitely be sitting alone. No one caught his eye, though. 

“Dude, why are you eye-fucking the hall?” Connor’s voice once again cut through the noise, breaking Stan’s concentration for his search. 

“I’m like, ninety-nine percent sure that he isn’t even here,” Stan said, still grazing over the last corner of the hall and not seeing anyone that he recognized as the boy who had ignored him all day. 

“He didn’t even come to dinner? What kinda freak are you rooming with?” Stan swatted at Richie’s comment, nearly catching the frame of his glasses in the process. The doors to the hall were being pushed open one last time, which wasn’t usual because no one was ever late for dinner. 

“Hold on, look,” Richie and Connor sat up a bit in their seats as well, their heads not the only ones swiveling to look at who was entering so late. 

“Oh my god,” Stan muttered under his breath, seeing a familiar face walking in, eyes wide with what could’ve been mistaken as wonder. 

“That’s him, you guys. He’s with Kaspbrak,” his voice was brought down to a whisper, as if Stan was worried that the two of them would hear his words from all the way across the large room. The talking soon resumed, and Stan lost sight of where the two late arrivals had gone off to within the crowd. 

“That was him? Staniel, you liar. He’s totally hot.” Richie was close to getting a real smack with that comment. Stan pushed him back down onto the bench by the top of the head, Connor following suit. The three of them leaned in towards one another to speak amongst themselves without the boys sitting just down the tabel hearing them. 

“What was he doing with Eddie?” 

“How am I supposed to know, Richie?” 

“You’re the guy’s roommate!” 

“That doesn’t mean I know everything about him. He hasn’t even said a single word to me!”  
“Shh” Connor butted in as a few of the boys in the next group down glanced over at their small cluster. 

“Sorry,” Richie waved them away with a humorous smile. The boys were older than them, and gave the group an odd look, but shrugged and turned away. 

“But seriously, I wonder how he bumped into Eddie,” 

“You only care because you’re in love with him.” 

“Who? Eddie? That’s ridiculous, Con.”

“It is not, Richie. You follow him around like the worlds most annoying lost puppy.” 

Richie opened his mouth to reply, but the food was being brought out, and there was no point in continuing on with the conversation. Stan and Connor shared a triumphant look as Richie closed his mouth once again. 

Dinner was pasta and garlic bread, Richie practically gorged himself with the weak excuse that he didn’t make it to lunch. Though, Stan spent the entire meal lost in thought about Bill. How had he managed to bump into Eddie. Thinking back on it, the Kaspbrak boy had been sitting outside the principal's office when Stan had left the meeting with his parents about getting a new roommate. At the time he just thought that there was another problem with his medical records, and Mrs. Kaspbrak would be paying a visit. A whale of a woman, that one was. And even though Stan and Eddie hadn’t ever been that close, he still felt sorry for the kid that he had a mother like that falling all over him, even being away at boarding school. 

He wondered briefly if Eddie was a backup choice for Bill to live with. If somehow Bill had already gotten to the higher-ups of the school, and they would be moving him to stay with Eddie, since he really did seem to hate Stans’ guts. That didn’t seem to be reasonable, though. Because Bill had only known him for three hours at the most, it was actually probably less than that. Just the thought left a bad taste in Stan’s mouth. How could someone be like that? Judge someone so quickly? It made no sense to Stan whatsoever. It just didn’t sit well with him. 

“Uh, earth to capitan Uris. Come in capitan Uris. Are you alive?” Richie was waving his hand in front of Stan’s eyes. He had been staring into his plate for the past five minutes while Richie and Connor bitched about the latest English assignment they had been given. 

“Hmm? Oh, sorry,” Stan blinked and straightened his posture, making Richie and Connor snicker. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Richie fluttered his eyelashes and propped his elbows on the table and set his chin in his hands. 

“Nothing,” Stan dismissed, taking another bite of his food. Richie and Connor shared a look of disbelief. 

“Don’t worry about the new guy, man.” Connor hooked his hand around Richie’s arm and pulled it out from under his chin. Richie shot him a look, but turned back to look at Stan once the message had come across. 

“Yeah. He’s a little prick, doesn’t seem worth any extra thought,” Richie was on his fifth slice of garlic bread at this point, and Stan sneered at the way that he was eating so quickly. 

“I’m not giving him any extra thought,” Stan dismissed them pretty quickly. He couldn’t have cared any less about the new guy. So what if Stan’s first thought about him was about how cute he was? He knew now that he was just a jerk. Bill was probably over at the table with Kaspbrak and his roommate, bad-mouthing him for one small incident. Stan had lost his temper, yes. But that didn’t mean that he was an asshole all the time. There were reputations, and people tended to think of him as the token Rich Bitch, just because his parents were at the head of the school board. And he was given lots of special treatment. But obviously not, since he was apparently stuck with this bitch for the rest of the year. There was no doubt that Kaspbrak and Hanscom were talking shit about him right at that second. 

Stan was royally screwed.


End file.
